


Unpredictable

by chesapeake ripoff (turnofthesentry)



Category: The Office (US)
Genre: Consensual Kink, Dom/sub, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-07-13
Updated: 2011-07-13
Packaged: 2017-10-21 08:37:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,226
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/223197
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/turnofthesentry/pseuds/chesapeake%20ripoff
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It wasn't <i>that</i> normal to want to kiss your best friend.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Unpredictable

Andy had been told once that the ways of love could be unpredictable. It had been in college, said to him by one of his friends who was trying to justify cheating on his girlfriend. Andy hadn't believed him then (although he'd pretended to), and he wasn't sure he believed it now either. Or maybe he _really_ believed it -- there was a fine line of difference, there. There was love and there was _love_. Andy didn't really know the difference between those, either, except one felt amazing and one felt like getting punched in the stomach, head, and balls.

The great part about love to him, was that it didn't even have to be romantic. Andy loved his friends probably more than his family sometimes. Maybe not his parents, but certainly his brother and occasionally his sister. But then sometimes it turned into _love_ , which was where he always found himself tripping up. He wasn't good with _love_. But he was great with love. That wasn't unpredictable. Maybe to the details, but there was always some kind of pattern to it. Always. What it was was _complicated_. Andy was so confident in _that_ that he'd be willing to tattoo it on his back. Not for real, but if he ever had a hypothetical tattoo discussion.

Sitting in a bar with his coworker Darryl Philbin, he felt almost as nervous as he had been on his first date with Erin. Why? Darryl was pretty much his best friend. Andy had no reason to be thinking about love or _love_ while just chilling with his friend, drinking beer and chatting about the stress in their life. Relationships on both counts.

Andy sipped his beer, all nerves but acting casual and acknowledging in his mind that they were both single.

_What does that even matter?_

Of course they were both single. Darryl had been single for a long time, and Andy and Erin had broken up months ago, nearing the six-month mark. Not that he was keeping track. But acknowledging it to himself in those words had a certain weight to it. Since he and Erin had split up, Andy had been spending almost all of his time hanging out with Darryl -- he asked him for advice, he listened to it when it was offered, he sought him out in his free time. They were, at the very least, good friends, and Andy had needed one of those for a while.

He wasn't really sure where these squirming, uncertain emotions were coming from. It wasn't _that_ normal to want to kiss your best friend, or smell the aroma of their skin, and he tried to discard these thoughts as drunken daydreams or hypothetical fantasies. It worked for the most part, but whenever he _saw_ Darryl again that conflict tightened up his chest once more.

There had been one evening, at home, where Andy had allowed himself to let his mind wander and entertain the fantasy. He wasn't a particularly chronic masturbator -- three times a week, on average, although it had been more when he was younger. It didn't have the same effect on him as it used to unless he had someone particular in mind, so the habit had become less urgent and more recreational. He took his time, leisurely spans of five-to-fifteen minutes before he'd take his evening soak in the tub. Usually he sat up on his bed, lights dimmed but not off, undressed except for his underwear and socks. This time, however, he'd hid himself beneath his sheets, sans underwear, touching himself with urgency. He lived alone and thus could be loud if he wanted, but stifled most of his grunts into his other palm instead. Climax had been quick and satisfying, but Andy remained shrouded in his sheets, panting, feeling guilty and confused.

He could pretend he hadn't been thinking about Darryl, but his cheeks flushed regardless when he glanced at his friend ordering another beer as he sheepishly vented his troubles. Andy could sympathize; he wanted a family too. Someone to share a bed with and kids in the other room, giggling and jamming to Raffi or JoBros. Mildly inebriated, he stroked Darryl's arm in what was meant to be encouragement. His cheeks and eyes were pink, alcohol coloring them with the faint hint of blood.

"Darryl, you're like… the coolest guy I've ever met. You're definitely going to meet someone. And don't you dare just settle, either. She's got to like Jada, Jada's got to like her, she's got to… know how great you are."

"That's all well and good, Andy, but easier said than done. I'm not gonna just find someone out of the blue. It's got to be _right_ , you know?" Darryl sighed heavily, rubbing his eyes. Andy nodded, clapping his friend on the back.

"I know more than you could even imagine. Hey, d'you remember what you said to me, at Gabe's party?" Andy bit the corner of his lip, watching Darryl's face intensely. He didn't want to repeat it unnecessarily, so he exhaled with relief when Darryl nodded his head. "Well. Right back at you, D-man. If I was a girl, it'd be like… no contest, even. I'd be all over you, and not just because you're a big sexy black guy. But because of your big sexy heart." His hand slid over Darryl's chest, rubbing the left pectoral.

Somehow following that, their mouths met accidentally.

✻

"Ohhhh God. Are you sure you've never done this before? I think I might be getting cold feet," Andy said with a nervous swallow as Darryl carefully undid his belt. He wriggled himself against the sheets, feeling large fingers brush against his still-clothed groin every now and then. Darryl halted.

"Andy," he said slowly, "If you don't want to go through with this, just say the word. It was your idea, remember? I haven't ever been with a man, but I know enough about women to know what'll translate. Relax, or I can leave. Up to you."

Andy shook his head, grabbing at Darryl's hand. "No, it's -- not that, I just, never--"

"I'll be gentle," Darryl said wryly.

"No! Could you-- I mean, yeah, don't hurt me or anything, but can you be a little, like… aggressive? Really make me like it." He smiled nervously. He could feel how sweaty he was, but made an effort not to comment on it out loud. Things were moving quickly, and his mind was struggling to keep up -- from the bar to Andy's bed, they'd been clinging to one another since the moment Andy had put his lips against Darryl's.

He slid himself out of his pants, half-grown erection pressing against his underwear. The real truth of the matter was, Andy had been in this position before -- and this is how it felt comfortable to him. He had lived with a dominatrix for three years; the submission came naturally. Paying 100% of the rent, Mistress Lila had made sure of that. The best pleasure had almost always been born out of the agonizing pain and humiliating domination. He had never been with another man, though, and that was where his nerves kicked into overdrive. The aggression served a second purpose in this case; Andy saw it as just far less _gay_ to be _taken_ than to _give_ himself right off the bat.

"I'll be making sure you like it, don't be a fool," Darryl said, undoing his own belt and leaning over Andy, aware of his heaving chest. Andy's erratic breathing was more obvious -- Darryl was lucky that his larger frame better hid his own uneasiness. It wasn't until he got his belt off and pants open that he aware of a problem -- he'd feared this, but had sort of hoped it'd take care of itself in the process. All the alcohol earlier in the evening probably hadn't helped matters, either.

"Shoot."

"What's wrong?"

"It's not wanting to work," Darryl said, matter-of-factly. Might as well give it to the guy straight -- no innuendo intended. "Down there -- nothing."

Andy pressed his lips together, running his tongue over the upper lip in thought. After a moment he sat up, snapping his fingers. "I got it. Here, lemme help you out," he said, reaching abruptly into Darryl's pants, heart beating quickly. He shifted himself, kneeling. Darryl's eyebrows raised and his hand found himself on Andy's head, surprised, and trying to move him away by instinct.

"Whoa, Andy, what you doing?"

"Relax, Darryl. I'll take care of you." Andy settled on his hands and knees, ass pressing against the backboard of the bed. He spoke matter-of-factly. "At Cornell I was the go-to guy among my friends for taking care of things like this. That's why they called me 'Boner Champ.'"

"Things like _this_ \-- are you serious right now?" Darryl almost laughed at how ludicrous that was, but in the next moment Andy's mouth was on his cock, licking and slurping eagerly. Anything else Darryl was going to say died in his throat and he exhaled, pressing his hips forward. And of course it was working, how anyone could not respond to such careful and wanting ministrations?

Andy moved his tongue learnedly; he was probably more experienced than he would normally care to admit, those four years at Cornell had been long ones. His friends whined to him that their girlfriends wouldn't put out, wouldn't give them head, or didn't give them _good_ head -- needless to say, he spent far more time on his knees than he ever had studying. He was happy to do his part, and right now, pleasing Darryl made the effort worth it.

His hands dug into Andy's hair, and after a few moments he pulled the other man off of him. "I think I'm ready," he said, slowly. He was indeed hard and slick with saliva, and now that Andy had done _that_ much it seemed silly to just stop there.

"Really? Okay… all right, cool," Andy said, wiping his mouth. His cheeks were just slightly flush with color as he resumed his earlier position, laying back against his bed and feeling his BBnB sheets cool against his back. He bit the corner of his lips. "All right, do you mind taking my underwear off for me?"

"Why?"

"Just do it, all right?" Andy clenched his jaw. "Just like… rip it off. And hold me down."

"Is that really what you wanna get out of this?"

"Yeah. Just hold me down and I'll squirm and try to resist you, and then you'll--"

"Are you even hearing how messed up that sounds? As the words come out of your mouth?"

Andy looked up at him with large eyes. "I -- I'm just nervous. Is it really that weird? I just figured--" Darryl put his finger over Andy's mouth, which was probably the most satisfying part of the evening. If only he could always shut Andy up that easily. What he did do was slip Andy's underwear down to his knees, looking to the side as he did so -- he wasn't ready to see the guy's penis. He just wasn't ready for that. He made a circling gesture with his hand still without looking. "Hey, Andy, turn over."

"What?" Andy looked at him, brows knitting in slight disappointment. He managed, somehow, not to look completely crushed, but his chin tightened under uncertainly parted lips. "Oh, uh. Right. Can do." He sat up, turning himself over so he was on his knees. Although he was well aware what this was -- a pity fuck, to really call a spade a spade, something they were doing for each other as a _favor_ because they were both alone, both miserable, and wanting a warm body to spend the night with -- Andy still felt the sting of chagrin, like he wasn't worth looking at. It hadn't been a problem with Mistress Lila, but that was a completely different arrangement. He wasn't _allowed_ to look at her without her permission, which he always had to earn. Outside of that, Andy had always liked to face his lovers.

He swallowed again. _Lovers_. Andy had been starting to suspect he wanted Darryl on a level that surpassed their arrangement; but he hadn't suspected it as strongly has he did after that thought crossed his mind.

Digging his knees into the sheets, he arched his back unconsciously. His chest was tight, heart beating rapidly. Even if that were true, having sex with a _guy_ was a huge step. Andy had _always_ said he wasn't gay, even in the face of confusion, but what did this say? If he put up a fight, at least he could argue that he just gave in; it was less incriminating than laying on his knees and stomach, underpants at his knees.

"You okay, Andy?"

After a slow exhale, Andy nodded. "I'm great." He tried not to hyperventilate when Darryl touched his sides, but his breath caught when he felt the weight of Darryl's hips pressing against him. "Oh God," he whispered.

Darryl exhaled, pressing his lips tight. "Andy, look, don't cry on me now. This was your idea, don't make it weirder than it already is. If you don' want to do it, we can stop. I'm way less gay than you, so it's no swea--"

"No -- Darryl, geez do you have to… say it like that, first of all, I'm not _gayer_ than you, I just wanted… to help…" He set his jaw, teeth chewing on his inner cheek. _Don't make it weird. He doesn't have to know that you--_ "But if I'm soooo completely repulsive that you don't even want to do this while I'm completely turned away, then _maybe_ we _shouldn't--_ "

Sensing he struck a nerve, Darryl rubbed Andy's back in an attempt to reassure the man. "Whoa whoa Andy. That's not what I'm sayin' at all. You ain't repulsive, you're just a dude." He paused, forming the sentences that came next carefully. "Look, we're both doing each other a solid here, we don't have to over-think it. But I'm hardly doing you any favors if you don't want to do it in the first place."

"I do," Andy said, quietly. "I really, really -- it's fine, you know, it's great. That's why I asked you to take charge here, I'm just, I dunno if I can do it on my own. _This._ "

Darryl stroked his back again, feeling the muscles tense beneath his hand. "All right, just be quiet and let me do this. Just. Relax."

Exhaling again, Andy parted his legs, bracing himself more on his knees. Darryl pressed himself against Andy, using his hand to direct himself to the right place. It was still wet with Andy's saliva, which would ease the process some. More alcohol would also ease the process -- it was too bad he didn't have any. Andy pushed his hips back, trying to be helpful.

It happened abruptly, which was probably for the best: Darryl plunged forward, going slower when Andy's muscles resisted. Andy gasped sharply and clenched his muscles immediately, to Darryl's frustration.

"Relax," he said, quiet but stern. Andy panted, face flushed and sweaty already. " _Relax_ yourself, Andy, or this is gonna be impossible."

Hesitantly, Andy nodded, parting his legs a touch farther and trying to relax himself, breathing inward as Darryl pushed into him deeper. He reached back to put one of his hands over the one clutching his hip. Darryl flinched -- it wasn't personal, Andy was just… _Andy_. Not just a dude, but he was _Andy_. Touching hands was way too intimate, and part of him wanted to keep that level of distance in place. Still, he regretted the reaction when Andy quickly withdrew his hand. _All right, Darryl, you can do this. Sure you can. Not just for yourself, either, give him a little of what he wants._ This was going to be hard -- he didn't know if they really could make this a regular event after all.

Leaning over Andy so that his stomach pressed against the other man's back, Darryl took one hand and pinned down Andy's wrist, leaving the other on his hip. Andy glanced up at him, eyebrows raised.

"Brace yourself, Andy, it's gonna get wild up in here," he said quietly, in his best seductive purr. May as well not let himself get rusty.

Andy, on the other hand, wasn't able to hide his grin quickly enough. He tried, though, responding with a coy: "Whoa, Darryl, I don't know…" but the facade was quickly broken when Darryl shoved into him harder, pressing his weight down. Andy's hips bucked, his stomach brushing the bed sheets. "Oh God!"

"You okay?"

"Yes, I'm okay! _God!_ "

Darryl was surprised by Andy's sudden vigor, but he supposed he shouldn't have been. He himself preferred a fast pace anyway -- passionate and intense, though slow was in his repertoire if it was preferred or he was tired. He gripped Andy's hip tighter, indenting the flesh. "Yeah, baby," he murmured, mostly to himself. Andy bucked roughly against his hips, grunting in a combination of discomfort and pleasure.

"Ahhh! _Woo!_ " Andy gasped, then panted, arching his back, slick with sweat, and slapping at the headboard. Darryl wondered if Andy had been telling the truth when he said this was his first time with a man, or he'd been playing it coy that early on. Andy wasn't much of a liar by Darryl's guess, but the dude had gone from 0 to 100 in no time at all.

"Oh God," he panted inarticulately, repeating himself in various combinations of Oh, God, and the occasional My. When Darryl said nothing in response and just drove against him harder, more aggressively, Andy groaned and added, "Sorry, I'll be quiet."

Dipping his back, Andy pressed his sweaty face against his pillow, breathing against it. He grimaced now and then -- it was painful, sort of, as he'd expected, but the forfeit of control and forfeit of worries relaxed him at the same time. It was something he was _used_ to, something he was good at. As much as Lila had taught him about pleasing women, he had felt oddly at home as a submissive. It was a different kind of pleasure, and a different way to prove himself -- he didn't have to run himself ragged trying to do it _all_ and prove himself _successful_ in irrelevant ways; he could just let himself go into the moment. Let himself be Andy. Let someone show _him_ how they felt. Let himself feel _wanted_ and not just tolerated. He moaned quietly into his pillow, avoiding Darryl's name.

He came quickly (perhaps embarrassingly so) the moment Darryl brushed his prostate. He hadn't been expecting it, and before he could even process it his stomach and sheets were damp and sticky. He blinked away the spots in his vision.

"That was incredible," he slurred, not sure if he meant it or not. He thought he did. He was suddenly aware his back was throbbing, and Darryl pulled away moments later, spent himself. Andy didn't look up just yet, but he felt the shift of weight on the bed as Darryl flumped down on the space beside him. Andy was frozen in the moment; he had been raised not to show much affection, being bred from a long line of WASPs, but Andy had been sort of the black sheep in that respect -- he was a cuddler, probably would always be one. But in his experience, especially with Angela, cuddling required permission. He didn't move.

Not even a foot away from him, Darryl was having internal conflict of his own. He had enjoyed himself, physically at least -- but he was having a hard time reconciling his emotions to that fact. He was thinking, as he finished, about his family. Broken now, his daughter barely even wanted to come see him, but still at least partially his. Darryl was a family man, and family men didn't sleep with their male coworkers, single or not. Andy wasn't going to be Jada's new mommy. That wasn't even a possibility. It felt weird to him even if they both knew there was no future here. Somehow it was a level entirely different than the ordinary one-night-stand.

More pressing, though, was Darryl's conflict with his religion. That one was easy. Black and white. No sleeping with men, period.

"Gonna go to hell," Darryl muttered to himself, turning away from Andy but too exhausted to leave yet. Now that he was done he felt the weight of what they did cling to him, sin like sweat, dripping off his body. "No two ways about it." He breathed slowly, mind working thoughts around slowly. They couldn't do this anymore, he told himself. Not twice. He tensed when he felt Andy curl up to his back, spooning him awkwardly and slipping an arm around his stomach, but decided he was too tired to push him away.

✻

Work the following day was nothing if not awkward. Darryl went into his office and shut the door when he arrived, and Andy sat at his desk, staring blankly at the computer screen. It was days like this where he was almost ( _almost_ ) thankful to be the worst salesman in the office -- if he was having an off day or felt distracted, no one was likely to notice. A relief, really, since this was one thing he probably could not confide in anyone. He certainly couldn't call his family, they wouldn't understand. The Bernards were not only notably repressed, but notably had expensive weddings and notably raised privileged, well-bred families. Having sex with a man would almost definitely make it seem like Andy was turning his back to all of that -- they would either disown him, pretend not to have heard him, or expect him to get married anyway, which was the far most likely of all the options. He knew _about_ gay-or-bisexual Bernards, but not who they _were_ \-- because all of them got married and raised children like the non-gay Bernards.

And he just knew his brother would love the opportunity to remind Andy what a black sheep he was; their parents were already aware Andy wasn't capable of much, did he _really_ want to advertise the fact he might never start a real family? _No_ thank you. He wasn't going to marry out of _shame_.

His back was sore and his wrist and thighs were bruised; the wrist, he covered with a woven bracelet that he wore occasionally. It didn't cover the whole thing, and it still hurt to type or answer phones. As such, he did his sales calls of the afternoon on speakerphone, much to the annoyance of his desk neighbors.

"Uh, okay, you just think it over and keep me in mind," he said, the edge of defeat in his voice. The person on the phone thanked him, and said that if they decided to go in this direction they would certainly give him a call back. Andy sighed, pressing the button to end the call. He knew what _that_ meant. And so did Stanley and Phyllis, going by the looks they gave him.

During lunch, he sat down by Oscar in the kitchen. He made a conscious effort not to feel defeated, and like usual, it worked pretty well. It got him through the day at least, which was all Andy needed to do.

Why he gravitated toward Oscar, he wasn't immediately sure. He considered Oscar more of a friend than he did most of the salesman, but the tight feeling in his chest told him there was more to it than that. Andy wasn't great at keeping secrets, and part of him was looking for someone to confide in. Even just a little.

"Hey Oscar," he said casually, unwrapping his fish salad. "What's the happy haps?"

"The… what did you just ask me?"

"Uh. What's up?"

Oscar rolled his eyes. "I'm an accountant, what do you think is up? We've been pulling in extra work because Michael _still_ won't sign off on--"

Andy put up a finger to interrupt Oscar, who looked at him quizzically and in irritation.

"Do you have a _question_ , Andy?" He asked, patiently.

"I do have a question, in fact." Andy pressed his fingers together, trying to figure out how he could get advice from Oscar without outing his situation. "About… on behalf of a friend of mine."

"What?"

"Yeah, it's my friend Carl 1. He's been having problems with the Mister -- sure you know how _that_ goes, right?" Andy smiled crookedly, hoping he sounded genuine. Oscar looked perturbed, but the question he asked had an easy answer.

" _Why_ is his name Carl _1?_ "

"Oh, he was married to Carl 2, spelled the same way. But that was a few years back, before they split."

Oscar sighed wearily, kneading the bridge of his nose with two fingers. "My advice? Is that they visit a couple's therapist. I don't even know these people, how am I supposed to fix their problems?"

Pressing his lips together, Andy frowned. Okay, he should have expected this to not be easy. "Well I figured I… could describe them to you and you could just, tell me what he's doing wrong. I'm pretty much Carl's go-to wingman, so he's really counting on me to get the 4-1-1."

"Do you think I exist just to dispense advice on being gay? I don't know these people. Why should I care?"

Drastic measures would be needed. Andy didn't hesitate to bring out the big guns -- sincerity always went over big. So did playing the friendship card, which Andy had been planning to do anyway.

"No, of course not! Oscar. You wound and misinterpret me. I came to you in earnest." Andy put his hand over Oscar's, imploringly, looking him in the eyes. "Please, dude, these guys mean the world to me."

Battle over. He knew it was won when Oscar broke eye contact. "Okay… okay. But you have half an hour, then I'm leaving." Oscar consulted his watch, then looked at Andy. It was true that he didn't dislike Andy… not really, though he didn't like the guy much either. They were acquaintances without really being friends, although it was obvious to Oscar that Andy didn't feel the same way. But friends of convenience weren't _really_ friends, were they?

Regardless, Andy was one of the more tolerable people in the office to Oscar. Annoying, sometimes on a level that rivaled Michael's, but more often than not he was harmless, friendly, well-intentioned and more than slightly pathetic; Oscar felt a bit sorry for him most of the time. He did live in constant fear that one day Andy would realize he really was gay and come out to him -- and he did not want _that_ job -- or worse, ask him out on a date. But those weren't reasons to avoid him entirely. Listening for a half-hour wouldn't kill him.

"What's the problem?"

Andy sat back in his chair, rubbing his forehead with both hands. "Okay, well," he began slowly, unease etched into his features. He picked up his fork, then put it down again. Bringing this up at all, even cleverly disguised, was making him nervous as hell. Andy wasn't _ready_ to be gay, or even kind of gay. "He and this dude, Darr…en, have this arrangement where they're just sex friends. Because they're both really lonely. But Darren's not really into dudes, and Carl 1 isn't really either--"

Oscar interrupted. "Wait, I thought you said Carl 1 had a husband in the past. How is he not gay?"

"Uh," Andy froze, brows wrinkling. "He had a sexy phase in college. That part's not important, Carl's problem is that he thinks he's kind of really into Darren, but Darren's… not. Into him. Probably at all."

"Well," Oscar exhaled slowly, frowning a bit. "That's why 'sex buddy' relationships are fundamentally flawed, Andy. What it boils down to is this: if you're not already accustomed to frequent, casual sex, being constistenly pushed into a situation as intimate as well… sex, is bound to create feelings in one or both parties. It's just human nature. Maybe this arrangement is a bad idea in the first place."

What he didn't expect was for Andy to look so distressed at that suggestion. Oscar raised one eyebrow. Slowly, he continued, "Not to mention It sounds like neither party is being honest. Carl should _probably_ tell Darren he has feelings for him. Darren may not be trying to lead Carl on, but he isn't into men -- as you said -- and this sounds like it was an inevitable outcome."

"Not… inevitable, I wouldn't say that." Andy rubbed the back of his neck. "I mean, isn't there something I -- he could do, like in bed, to make Darren like him more? Like some secret gay kama sutra?"

"Andy, are you asking about yourself?"

The look on Andy's face was enough of an answer, though he wrinkled his nose, quick to dismiss the notion. "Pfff... _no_. What? That...'s crazy, Oscar. That's so crazy, you're crazy. Why would I be asking about myself? I'm not even gay. Sorry to get your hopes up. This dude is not on the market. And even if he was, it's not a meat market."

Oscar rolled his eyes, rubbing the bridge of his nose with his fingers again. He had a choice to make here, but Oscar had already made up his mind the last time Andy had come to him for something like this. Again, he was _not_ going to be responsible.

"I don't think I can do this. Sorry Andy, but I think… you're on your own. I can't help you. But consider the fact that you might be more gay than you think you are if you're sleeping with other men."

He stood, taking his sandwich with him and walking out of the kitchen without another word. Andy watched him leave, cheeks flushed, still looking horrified that his ruse had been seen through. He looked down at his salad, untouched, and poked it ineffectually with his fork. He got up, put his food in the fridge, and walked over to Darryl's office.

"Knock knock," he said, without knocking. "Got a minute, bromigo?"

"No," Darryl said through the door. He sounded definite. Andy frowned.

"Really…? I just wanted to borrow you briefly. To chat."

"About what."

"I don't know, the weather, sports -- look can I just come in? Please."

His jaw was clenched almost painfully, hurting the muscles in his cheeks. He wasn't aware he was doing it, even, until he glanced uneasily askance at Darryl's silence, meeting eyes with Oscar. His muscles eased immediately and he looked away, just as Darryl muttered, "Come in."

Fumbling quickly with the doorknob, Andy escaped into the safety of Darryl's office, closing the door behind him. "I thought we should talk."

"Andy."

Andy leaned over Darryl's desk, palms flat on the cool wood. "Darryl. We really need to talk about some things. Like, now. Comprende?" Darryl gently pushed at Andy's hands, and Andy removed them from his desk. "…Sorry."

"Talk about _what_?" Darryl's tone was calm, but stern. One eyebrow was raised; it was clear Darryl's patience was on a short leash right now.

"About…" Losing his courage, Andy changed his tactic. His voice cracked, filled with emotion mostly real, but nothing he said next was what he'd been planning on. He just put his mouth onto autopilot. "Okay, it's just, _really_ hard to sit out there and watch Erin and Gabe together all day, flirting and just making little cute faces at each other and I think I really, really need someone... right now."

Not entirely untrue, either. He hadn't been paying much attention to Erin today of all days, but every other day he would only have to look to his right to see his beautiful, sweet ex-girlfriend talking with her boyfriend-who-wasn't-him, maybe about lunch, or a movie, or who knew what else what. This had been and _was_ especially hard to deal with in the face of his confusion with Darryl. In order to distance and distract himself he had been putting more importance on his feelings for Erin, blowing them to much larger size. So far, it wasn't working.

"You're serious." Darryl just looked at him, eyebrow still raised. His fingers toyed with a pencil. Everything about his tone told Andy he had just put his foot in his mouth and bit down. "Right now. At work. In my office."

"…Yep." Andy shifted his weight from leg to the other, uneasily. "Right here and now."

"That just sounds like a terrible idea. We could both get canned if we're caught. And I don't want any of this getting around, either." Darryl broke eye contact, running his hand uneasily through his hair. It was hard for him to say no to sex, really -- as inappropriate as it was, it was like drinking. The middle of the work day was sometimes when you really wanted it the _most_ because you knew you couldn't have it.

"I am a total master of discretion. Come on." Andy walked around Darryl's desk, undoing his belt quickly. This hadn't been his plan of action at all, but somehow now he was really into it. He just wanted to spend a little time with Darryl, be close to him and feel wanted for a brief time before he dropped a bomb on him. They could have their "talk" another time. "They won't ever know. Besides, people get busy in the office all the time. Ryan and Kelly, for one."

"They don't count. No one cares what they do." Regardless, Darryl didn't protest Andy's fingers undoing his belt. His fingers twitched, brain yelling at him to do something. He had decided _last night_ he was going to end it with Andy. It was too weird to be worth it, too wrong and too risky. Andy was a nice dude, but he wasn't a beautiful woman. And anyway… Andy _was_ his friend. It wasn't really fair to use him like this.

Even if it had been Andy's idea to start with.

He felt Andy looking at him, waiting for the go ahead. _Stop him, Darryl. Tell him to go back out and do his work and leave you to yours._

Darryl closed his eyes, shaking his head and trying hard to do the right thing, the responsible thing, since obviously he was going to have to do the thinking for the both of them. "Wait-- Andy..."

✻

A sharp slap of paper on wood snapped Oscar out of his reverie. "Oscar. Pay attention me when I'm talking to you," Angela said, lips thin. "What are you even looking at?"

Oscar opened his mouth, then closed it, unsure of how to answer her. He had, admittedly, been glancing every now and then at Darryl Philbin's office door. He tried his best, always, to stay out of other people's business -- but after his talk with Andy, he couldn't help that small, minuscule spark of curiosity he felt. _Had_ Andy really been talking about himself? Was he gay? He was a man difficult to get a read on, especially since he so infrequently made sense. Seeing Andy go into Darryl's office had been merely an observation. Looking at his watch ten minutes later and noticing that Andy still hadn't left was where the curiosity blossomed. Andy hadn't come out to him officially, so he didn't have any responsibility in the matter. He was free to _just_ observe for now.

But Oscar wasn't a gossip. Was he a man interested in facts? Well, yes. Was he a man interested in knowing about things he was moderately involved with and that may affect him later? Anyone would be. He wouldn't push for information, but he still found his eyes drawn to that door.

"Nothing, Angela, nothing. Just let my mind wander, I guess." He bit the inside of his cheek, turning his attention back to his computer.

✻

"Ah-- come on, it'll be great," Andy said, as enthusiastically as he could so that he'd believe it, himself. He bit his own lips, sitting against Darryl's leg and trying to keep his legs from shaking. Every noise he heard he thought was someone with their hand on the doorknob, or standing outside the door listening.

He tilted his head a bit. "It'd be so-- wrong?" he prompted in a whisper, trying to encourage the excitement.

"You got that right," Darryl muttered, hands still tight on Andy's hips. At least they were in agreement. "Stay quiet, Andy. I'm getting real uneasy, even talking about this here. I don't know if we're gonna be able to keep this up."

"But--" Andy panted, his eyebrows raising. He sat back, so that he could look at Darryl in the eyes. "No, but, why? It's just… a casual-- it…" His cheeks flushed in distress.

"You're getting way too into this," Darryl noted, with a touch of sensitivity. He should have seen it coming from a mile away. This was seeming like a worse and worse idea.

"You can't do this to me, Darryl," Andy said, despair in his voice. "You can't leave me to my own devices, I'm just going to screw up again! I _need_ you."

"What you need is a friend. You don't need me like this. I shouldn't have agr--"

"I _do_ need you like this! I need you like this a lot!" Andy said, raising his voice just a touch in indignation. "What if I do what Tuna did and buy Erin a house?? Or… a boat, or--"

"You're not going to do any of those things. You're not even dating her, man, don't buy her a house. You can't afford that."

"I could if I asked my parents for a loan. I am in excellent credit standing with them."

Darryl touched his cheek, and Andy's heart sank. He knew that whatever this was -- at least for now -- they were done with it. Maybe not forever, but this conversation was clearly over. He turned his face away from Darryl, stumbling away from him. Buckling his belt again hastily, he left the office without another word.

✻

Pam had only glanced up from her computer when she noticed Andy leaving Darryl's office in a huff, face flushed and hair mussed. Her lips parted in surprise, and she found her eyes quickly darting elsewhere. She met Oscar's, whose raised eyebrows matched her own. They managed to have a conversation right there with just their eyes.

_Did you see that?_

_Of course I saw that. It was impossible to miss._

_What was going on in there? They're not… are they??_

_How should I know? Well, the evidence is certainly incriminating._

_Are they an item??_

_Stop assuming I know these things just because I'm gay. Honestly._

Jim tapped Pam on the shoulder just then, needing her for something. She looked at Oscar and nodded, pointing to the break room and holding up five fingers.

"Oh my God!" Pam exclaimed in a frantic whisper, five minutes later. Oscar sipped his coffee, nodding in agreement. "You've got to catch me up."

"I don't know if there's anything to tell," he said, carefully. "I try not to gossip. It's a bit childish?"

"Oscar." Pam crossed her arms. "You can't be telling me you're not just a little bit curious?"

"Am I curious about Andy's sexuality? Please, Pam. That's hardly anyone's business but his own. I might be… _mildly_ curious about what we just saw, at best. But only in a professional capacity. The relationship drama in this office gets rather old, not to mention it pulls the rest of us in whether we like it or not." He sipped his coffee innocently, giving Pam his condescending That's My Story and I'm Sticking To It look.

"I can't believe you would keep the juiciest gossip this office has ever seen quiet from me." Pam threw her hands up in exasperation. "This is even bigger than Dwight and Angela or Michael and Jan, I think. I really want it to work, they would be really cute. Don't you think?" She peered out through the break room windows, looking at Andy at his desk.

Andy and Angela had been a disaster that the entire office had to suffer. Pam had _thought_ Andy and Erin would be perfect, but that had been over for a long time and it didn't seem like it would pick up again anytime soon. Darryl and Kelly never had a chance. In Pam's mind, this made the two of them like almost a no-brainer -- they _were_ really close and they _were_ both alone. In theory, it seemed like it should work out perfectly. They had seemed especially close at Christmas.

"Are you saying all that becau--"

" _No_ , I am not just saying that because they're both guys. They _would_ be cute," Pam said with determination. Oscar sighed, and folded. It wasn't gossip if he stated an observation.

"Well, Andy was in there for at least fifteen minutes. Whatever they were talking about must have been serious. For whatever that information is worth." He wondered with mild amusement what Pam was planning. She had certainly been fervent in trying to set him up with Matt; he remembered that with not much fondness. But direct that energy at Andy and yes -- this situation might be worth keeping tabs on. "Any further 'evidence' is really all circumstantial, and I don't really feel comfortable discussing it."

"I think we both know what kind of 'talks' leave people looking like _that_ afterward," Pam said dryly. "Unless they had the heat cranked up and were whipping their heads to music, I think the evidence speaks for itself."

She left quickly after that, flushed with exhilaration at "winning" against Oscar. Even if, he would argue, it doesn't count as winning if one opponent leaves before the rebuttal.

As she passed by Andy's desk, she noticed his hair was still mussed, sticking up in the back like straw.

"Andy," she said quietly, tapping his shoulder. He started, turning quickly to look at her.

"Oh, Pam. It's you," he said, letting out a breath. He looked mildly disappointed, which on any other day Pam would be mildly offended by. "What is it?"

"I wanted to know if you'd like to borrow my comb. Your hair is kind of…" She struggled with how to describe it, and instead just went to her desk and grabbed her comb. "Here, let me fix it for you."

Andy goggled at her, but didn't protest. "Thanks, Pam…" He ran his hand over the back of his head when she finished, smoothing the rest down. He looked briefly troubled at not having noticed.

"Mmhm not a problem!" Pam bounced away, moving back to her desk quickly. She had hoped to strike up a conversation with him but lost her nerve, hiding safely behind her computer monitor. Andy gave her a weird look from his desk, then turned back to his own monitor, hitting the speakerphone button on his phone to make some more sales calls. She was madly curious, though, and made a point to talk to Andy later if she got the chance.

The chance she ended up taking was awkwardly switching her phone with Andy's next time she passed his desk, hoping he wouldn't notice immediately. Her heart thumped in her chest when she pulled up the texts, and she averted her eyes for a moment, nearly chickening out. She knew that she really shouldn't peek at his phone, that it was a gigantic breach of privacy, but all the same she was filled with adrenaline and consequently unable to help herself. She highlighted the inbox and began scrolling.

That didn't take long. There were barely any texts from Darryl in his inbox, the few that were seemed innocuous. ' **cant catch it, i don't get home till late** ', ' **maybe** ', ' **andy stop texting me at work** '. They _could_ be incriminating, maybe, but she'd sent simple texts like that of her own and not necessarily to Jim. She went back, highlighting the sent folder this time.

The last fifteen texts (save for one sent to "Sis") had been sent to Darryl, to Pam's excitement. She didn't, however, have the opportunity to read any of them besides ' **do you want to m** \--' before she glanced up and saw Andy frowning at his (her) phone. She quickly turned the screen off on his and pretended to work as he walked over to her.

"Heyy Pam? I think I got your phone by mistake," he said, hovering by her desk.

"Mmmm? No I don't think so, Andy," Pam said quickly, not looking up. Andy turned his head to peer at her computer screen, annoyed that she was paying more attention to it than to him.

"Um, first of all, you're not typing real words," he pointed out, and held her phone out to her. "Second of all, this phone has Cece as the wallpaper. Therefore, it is yours. And that is mine. Therefore, please give it back to me."

He held out his palm for it, and Pam reluctantly passed it over, knowing she was defeated. It was a noble ignoble effort, at least. "Sorry," she said sheepishly. "I must have grabbed yours on accident when I… dropped it. Earlier."

Andy tucked the his phone into his coat pocket, giving Pam a side-eye before he headed back toward his desk. "No worries. These things happen. Just maybe give it a look-over next time to avoid future mishaps. They're not even really the same color."

Sitting at his desk he whipped the phone out again, running his thumb over the keys. He had been considering texting Darryl, debating on whether or not it was a good or bad idea. Darryl didn't reply to the majority of his texts as it was, so he'd have to make this one good.

**hey d u free later?**

He waited, chewing on his thumbnail. A few minutes passed, and then he exhaled as his screen lit up, indicating a new message.

**going to a party my cousin is throwing.**

Just that. No names, no invite. A lesser man might take the hint and give up, but Andy's thumbs zipped across the keys, shooting him back a reply.

**great! can i come?? i know sum awesome dance moves i want to try out.**

Five minutes this time. Andy's foot fidgeted under his desk against the chair leg, enough to cause Phyllis to shoot him a glare and tell him to cut that out, she could feel the vibrations through her desk. He just made a face, stilling his foot and checking his phone again.

**ok but you better not get weird on me. you know what i'm talking about.**

**yeah no prob. ixnay on the omancebray.**

No response. But Andy had gotten his yes, so he was smiling as he tucked his phone away.

✻

"How do I look?" Andy said, hopping toward Darryl's car and gesturing to his outfit. He'd changed into something he deemed more casual -- pink sweater vest, blue shirt, red pants, argyle socks. "Is this cool enough?"

"You're fine. Get in." Darryl revved the engine as Andy slid into the passenger seat. He was all nerves, contemplating getting through the evening surrounded by Darryl's family. It was almost like meeting his parents for the first time, only nothing like that. "Just remember, _be_ cool. Don't say anything stupid, don't do anything stupid. Just be yourself, but not… too much."

"Yeah, yeah. I comprende. No sweat, Darryl. You can trust me."

Hours later, they were back in the car. Darryl turned on the headlights and started up the car, illuminating the dark road in front of them. He'd had a pleasant time, himself -- he caught up with his cousin's affairs, his friends, had some laughs and some beers and not even thought about Andy until a couple hours in, when he realized he hadn't seen the guy in a while. He'd been deliberately trying to keep his mind on other things.

"So where were you for hours?"

Andy sighed, slumping to his side a little. "Den. Talking to that Rachel girl."

"Rachel, huh?" Darryl raised his eyebrows, looking at Andy curiously. Somehow, he hadn't expected Andy to _meet_ someone there. And somehow, that bothered him just a little. Maybe because he didn't really know her, and he didn't want Andy getting into something he shouldn't. That must have been it.

"Yeah, we really hit it off…" Andy's hand slid up Darryl's arm, and Darryl took a breath out. His eyes flicked off the road for a moment, looking at Andy looking at him. Andy slowly averted his eyes, staring out the front windshield but not moving his hand away. "We're going to get dinner tomorrow night. Know the perfect place to take her, too. Nailed it, right?"

"Good on you, Andy." Darryl stared ahead as well, hands tight on the wheel. "Maybe you'll have a girl for Valentine's Day after all." He felt Andy's hand move on his arm again, but made no comment on it.

Andy finally spoke again, after a good many minutes passed. Darryl had pulled up in front of Andy's place, feeling the engine hum as he shifted gears.

"I really want to kiss you…"

Darryl ran his tongue over his upper lip, pulling the car into park. "Are you drunk or something?"

"No."

"Well," Darryl glanced over at him now, cupping Andy's shoulder. "Pretend you are."

Grinning, Andy nodded obediently, leaning over the seat and cupping Darryl's face within his hands.

✻

A little less than a week passed, and Darryl hadn't received any texts from Andy since that night. Things had remained tense between the two of them, but Darryl didn't notice immediately; his grandmother passed away, leaving him distant and unresponsive for days. He realized, shortly after, that he hadn't had new messages from Andy in days. The guy had become less clingy overnight, whereas Darryl felt more alone than ever. Funny how life worked.

When Andy announced his Valentine's Day plans, Darryl kept a straight face.

"Rachel from the party?" Darryl knew, of course, but the rest of the office didn't need to know he knew. He hadn't expected the two of them to still be together.

"Oh yeah." Andy beamed up at Darryl. Darryl met him for a fist bump.

" _Niiice_. Do the damn thing."

It was cool. Darryl didn't expect Andy to be single forever; the guy was handsome, charming, awkward in a nonthreatening kind of way. Not to mention desperate for love. Guys like that rarely stayed single for long so long as they kept up their spirits.

He kept to himself in his office, and tried _hard_ to ignore Erin and Andy when they came poking their way inside for Gabe and Erin's sappy romantic treasure hunt. He could tell, at least, that Andy felt the awkward tension hanging in the air as well. He left quickly, taking Erin with him, and Darryl rubbed his temples. It was going to be a long day, and Andy spending it with Erin was just going to make it seem longer. Why did that dude fall all over himself for her even now?

He turned on some music and worked through the hours, blocking Andy, Erin, and Rachel from his mind.

"Hey, Darryl?"

Darryl checked the clock before he checked the door. 4:45. He looked at the door and of course it was Andy. He wasn't the least bit surprised.

"What's up?"

"I just… wanted to apologize for earlier. I tried to get her to take the boom-box outside, but you know Erin…" Andy kneaded his hands together nervously.

"Sure, whatever. Apology accepted." Darryl turned back to his computer screen. Andy continued to hover, shoulders hunched.

"Umm. Are you mad at me?"

"No."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

Andy closed the office door. "Because, I felt like you might be mad at me over the Rachel thing. We're not like, _official_ boyfriend and girlfriend yet, just so you know."

"Andy," Darryl looked at him, patience wearing thin. "It's fine. Just leave."

It took a few minutes, but Andy did slink out of the office.

Darryl finished up his work and left at 5:00 on the dot. He had a good evening ahead of him, and he didn't plan on having Andy and his drama mess it up; Jada's mother had agreed to let him have her for the evening, even though it was a school night. He picked her up from her mother's house and the two of them swung by Blockbuster to pick up a movie before heading to his place.

"You start up the movie, I'm going to get dinner cooking." Darryl rubbed Jada's hair, heading into the kitchen. His phone buzzed in his pocket at, according to the oven's clock, 7:51. Darryl flipped the stove's knob and hesitantly looked at the phone screen.

**From: Andy  
hi can i come over ?**

Darryl stared at the message, then set the phone down to set the water on the stove to boil. He was going to make this pasta and make it _right_ , and to hell with Andy trying to mess up this evening just because his girl dumped him on Valentine's Day. Darryl was a good friend -- a _damn_ good friend -- but he couldn't be there for Andy _every time_ the man screwed things up for himself.

It was tough love, plain and simple. He deleted the message and poured the noodles into the pot. The phone rang and he let it, stirring.

At 8:05, Jada scurried into the kitchen and tugged on her father's shirt. "Daddy," she exclaimed, "Someone's here to see you."

_Uh oh_ , Darryl thought in both exasperation and annoyance. "I hear you, I'm coming. Do me a favor and watch the pot, okay? You can help me out a real lot if you stir that spoon and don't let the noodles stick to each other." She nodded in affirmation, and he ruffled her hair again and stepped out of the kitchen.

When he stepped into the front room he heard the knocks, and glanced not at the door but the front window. Andy's face was visible under the blinds, rapping once on the glass and then waving his fingers shyly. Darryl exhaled, moving to open the door. Andy stepped over quickly, still dressed up from his dinner date, hands wedged into his coat pockets. His nose and cheeks were flushed from the cold.

"Hey," he said. "You didn't answer your phone. Or my text. Or my other texts."

"Look, Andy. I know why you're here. Things didn't go so good with Rachel, right? We're going to have to talk later. My daughter's over tonight."

"That's not… actually, um, I called things off with Rachel. We just… it wasn't going to work out."

Darryl hesitated to respond, then he cocked an eyebrow. "You dumped her, on Valentine's Day."

Andy looked horrified at that realization, and Darryl couldn't help but crack a smile. "Oh God, yeah. I did do that! Wow. Oh shoot. Maybe I should text her to apologize. No, probably not. Man."

"You really couldn't have waited _one day._ " Darryl clicked his tongue. "You must have had a real good, important reason."

Andy rubbed the inside of his cheek with his tongue, looking up at Darryl warily. He moved closer to him, letting their clothed chests press together, and cupped Darryl's face in his hands. He only needed to lean slightly on his toes to reach Darryl's lips with his. It was a short, warm kiss with just a hint of tongue; when Andy pulled his mouth away, his voice was just shy of being a whisper.

"Oh yeah I did."

"Daddy?"

Darryl turned his head, pressing his hand to Andy's chest to drive the man back a step.

"Hey, sweetie." He paused, then put his hand on Andy's shoulder. "You remember uncle Andy."

With a large smile Jada nodded, waving at Andy then looking back at her father. "Is uncle Andy staying for dinner?"

"I think he was just stopping by to say hel--"

"Please can he, daddy? Please?" Jada's pout was nearly unbeatable, but Darryl resisted. He opened his mouth to respond, but Andy spoke first, miming Jada's pout.

"Yeah daddy, _pwease_ can I? Pweassse?"

He grinned and bit his lip. Darryl was speechless for a long moment.

"… Okay, I'm going to go check on the pasta. Only _one_ of you is allowed to call me daddy; I'll leave it to you two to figure out." He went into the kitchen, hands up in exasperation. Andy and Jada high-fived one another as she giggled.

✻

Rachel, to her credit, had taken the break-up amicably. They'd had a good chat over dinner discussing work and movies they were looking forward to, steaks, and wine. He had decided to be honest with her, and told her he wasn't sure he was looking for anything serious right now.

"It's complicated," he said, taking a nervous sip of wine. "It's, it's this thing. With--"

Rachel took her own sip of wine -- a large one -- and put her hand on his. Andy paid the check, and then Rachel dropped him off at Darryl's on her way home. It had been an awkward car ride, to be sure, but at least they hadn't parted in hostility. He knew he was taking a gamble showing up at Darryl's on such short notice; Darryl hadn't answered his phone which meant he was probably mad.

He was, however, encouraged now. Darryl hadn't turned him away, which was definitely a start. He followed Jada into the kitchen, kneading his hands together.

"Why hello, mon capitan. We came to see if you wanted any help."

Darryl held the pot with oven mitts, switching it to a different burner. He shook his head and pointed to the kitchen table, which was already set. There was a candle in the middle and nice silverware laid out. "It's all done. You two take a seat."

"Race you," Andy said quickly, and Jada rushed over to the table with him, each snagging seats. He snapped his fingers and slapped the table in mock frustration. "Drat. You win."

She giggled again.

✻

After Jada had gone to sleep, Andy and Darryl drifted to the living room with a bottle of wine. Andy held both glasses, sliding next to Darryl and holding them steady as he poured.

"You are seriously crazy, man. You know that?" Darryl said with a mild chuckle, re-corking the bottle. "Rachel's crazy hot."

"Yeah, I know," Andy said, taking an immediate sip. "But my tastes can be rather eclectic. I also like people who are super hot, smoking hot, sizzling hot, and so hot they're on fire. And it just so happens, the person I left her for fits at least one of those qualifications."

"Only one, huh?"

"I believe I said at _least_ one." He rested his head against Darryl's shoulder, sipping his wine again. He bit the corner of his lip, swishing the liquid in the glass. "Tell me the truth, Darryl. Am I totally barking up the wrong tree here?"

"It's pretty complicated," Darryl admitted, taking a sip of his wine. He'd been kind, he thought, by letting this conversation happen though he still wasn't entirely comfortable with it. Not that he didn't like Andy, but there was a lot he wasn't in the mood to think about or talk about tonight. And there was a lot that would have to be talked about.

"Totally might not be the right word. I don't know what would be, though. You need to take it easy."

"Speaking of complicated," Andy said after a pause, somewhat guiltily, "I think Oscar and Pam know that I like you. Actually I'm like, 99% sure Oscar knows, I practically almost told him. And I'm pretty sure Pam was looking through my phone last week."

"They probably still think you have a girlfriend."

"Like that'll really fool Oscar and Pam, Darryl. Once they get a scent--"

"So, who cares? Let 'em talk. If they want to know they can ask you to your face. Just because you're single doesn't mean you have to advertise it. It's none of their business."

Smiling sheepishly, Andy nodded after a moment's hesitation. "You know… you're totally right. I mean, it's hard not to care. I've gotten rumors spread about me a _lot_. A lot a lot. But it's not just me, it's also you -- and Jada, and. It's really complicated. I know there's -- I mean, we -- heck, and _my_ own family--"

He shivered, as Darryl's hand swept down his back.

"Jada really likes you," he commented, changing the subject. He didn't want Andy to dwell on drama -- at least not tonight. It's not like any of it was going to go away by doing that.

"Oh yeah, Jada's amazing," Andy grinned. "By the way, we came to the agreement that she'll be the one to call you daddy. But, it was a really hard call."

"I was afraid to ask."

"It was mostly a joke." Andy rubbed his cheek, then added, "I swear I'm not trying to like, push anything weird on you."

Darryl rubbed Andy's shoulder, and then took another drink of his wine.

"You're already pushing _yourself_ on me. Doesn't get any weirder than that."


End file.
